


I'll Be Good

by OfficialStarsandGutters



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Breathplay, Dom/sub, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Praise, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:14:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24371872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfficialStarsandGutters/pseuds/OfficialStarsandGutters
Summary: Juno and Nureyev spend their evening together after a supplies run.-The skirt of his sundress is crumpled up above his knees now. He reaches to smooth it down, but Nureyev’s hand landing on his thigh stops him. Long, lean fingers stroke along the silky material of Juno’s stockings, and his eyes hood at the sensation. A little fluttering of warmth in his stomach glowing through the aching tiredness of his body.
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Comments: 21
Kudos: 170





	I'll Be Good

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to practice writing Jupeter. Ali wanted Peter dominating bratty sub Juno, with a little orgasm denial (as a treat). I live to please, but I also live for my boys being soft, so there's feelings among the smut.
> 
> Since Peter has issues communicating, he works through some of his feelings in their scene. However, he never neglects his dom responsibilities. No 50 Shades shit here. Only healthy sub/dom dynamics on my spaceship.

“Ugh, my feet are killing me.” Juno puts the bags he’s been hauling in the back seat before he drops into the passenger side. He undoes the straps of the gladiator style sandals he's wearing to rub his aching, stocking clad feet.

“Perhaps not the best choice of footwear, my dear,” Nureyev says, having put his bags with Juno’s before getting into the driver’s seat.

“I thought we were going on a supply run, not a half day hike.”

“No inner city parking. Besides, less conspicuous to leave the car out here.”

“I’m just saying; if I had of known I’d have worn trainers and pants.”

“And deny me the view of your lovely calves in that pretty dress? For shame.”

“You see plenty of my _lovely_ _calves_ ,” Juno grumbles, working his thumbs into the arches of his tired soles. Head dropping back against the seat with a soft, barely audible moan.

“Careful. Keep making noises like that and you’ll distract me from my driving,” Nureyev says as he starts up the car. Juno smirks without opening his eye.

He stretches his legs out after a moment and flexes his feet a few times before letting them relax. The skirt of his sundress is crumpled up above his knees now. He reaches to smooth it down, but Nureyev’s hand landing on his thigh stops him. Long, lean fingers stroke along the silky material of Juno’s stockings, and his eyes hood at the sensation. A little fluttering of warmth in his stomach glowing through the aching tiredness of his body.

Nureyev’s hand works the flesh of his thigh, fingertips pressing a firm massage into it before, so slow and teasing, his hand drifts up a little further. His thumb passing the line of Juno’s stocking, nail trailing teasingly on the bare skin of his thigh.

“Mmph.” Juno sits up straighter and rolls his skirt up to his waist.

“Why, Juno, I was only teasing. I didn’t expect you to flash me.”

“It’s not that,” Juno says, inspecting his own thighs. “The thigh highs were a mistake, too. My thighs are chafed to hell.”

He frowns, tracing his thumb over the warm, irritated skin from where his thighs have been rubbing together in the heat all day. Nureyev glances over at him briefly. He kisses his own fingertips, then dots them to the tender areas of Juno’s skin.

“Wow, thanks, I’m healed,” Juno says, even as the traitorous butterflies in his stomach start to riot at that gesture.

“If you’re going to be like that, I’ll just keep my kisses to myself.” Nureyev returns his hand to the wheel and Juno feels suddenly cold without the warmth of his touch.

They’re not fully healed yet. He knows that. They’ve spent evenings talking. Clumsy words and teary eyes, often shifting into desperate hands clutching, tugging at clothes, greedy mouths pressing hot and insistent. Communication has never been their strongest point, and even with making an effort, they’ve still got a ways to go. In moments like this Juno can feel the distance between them. Feels like his stupid mouth has contributed to it once again.

He tugs his skirt down and folds his arms across his ribs, sinking down in the chair, subconsciously making himself small. Like maybe if he takes up less space then he won’t annoy Nureyev as much. Nureyev doesn’t say anything else.

The rest of the drive is silent.

*

If Nureyev _is_ annoyed with him, it doesn’t show once they’re back on the Carte Blanche. Though Nureyev is so good at putting up a front, that doesn’t mean much.

Juno is quickly distracted by a very chatty Rita questioning him up and down about the city and what this planet was like, before interrogating him on what snacks he got. He’s grateful for the distraction. Trying to heave bags through to their ship kitchen even as Rita is poking through them in search of her snacks.

“Oh, Mistah Steel, you remembered my favourite!”

“Of course I did, Rita. You only ate them every day in the office.”

“You’re the best, Mistah Steel.” She bounces up to press a kiss to his cheek, and even as he makes a show of grumbling, he feels the tightness in his chest loosen somewhat. Rita has a way of putting him at ease.

While he and Nureyev put their new supplies away, Jet and Rita work on dinner. Well, Jet does, mostly. Rita sits on the counter crunching snacks (despite Jet warning she’ll ruin her appetite) and talking a mile a minute about the latest stream series they’ve been binging together. Nureyev and Juno move around each other as they tuck things away in different cupboards. Nureyev still hasn’t spoken to him, but at one point while he’s passing behind Juno, his fingers skim along Juno’s waist. Just a small touch, but enough to let Juno know they’re okay.

His breath comes a little easier after that.

*

“Juno,” Nureyev says after dinner, helping Juno gather their plates to take to the sink. Vespa and Buddy on washing duty this evening. “Would you come to my room when you’re done?”

“Uh.” Juno glances up, cheeks already warm with the unspoken intention. He grins, lopsided. “For dessert?”

Nureyev rolls his eyes.

“Actually, I have a moisturiser I think would help ease your chafing.”

“Oh.”

“When you’re done,” Nureyev says, and piles the dishes he’d gathered on top of the ones in Juno’s arms.

Juno takes them to the sink, ignoring Vespa’s digs about keeping it for the bedroom. He flips her off when Buddy’s back is turned and flees from the room before he can be scolded.

The soft pad of his stockinged feet on the hallway floor of the ship falls in rhythm with the beat of his heart as he makes his way to Nureyev’s room. He keeps thinking he should be over the accelerated heart rate, the flutter in his tummy, the mixture of excitement and nervous anticipation. His body doesn’t seem to have got the memo. He stops at Nureyev’s door, hand lingering for a moment of delicious tension before he mentally scolds himself for being dramatic and gives a sharp knock.

“It’s me,” he adds for clarification.

“Come in,” Nureyev says.

Nureyev is sitting on the bed when Juno enters. He’s taken off his socks and shoes, has one leg tucked under himself. His silk shirt is unbuttoned, hanging loose around him, and Juno’s eyes linger on his chest for much longer than a moment.

“Sit,” Nureyev says, nodding to the bed beside him without looking up from the cosmetic bag he’s sorting through. Juno sits quietly and waits. “Ah, here it is.”

Nureyev holds up a circular jar of moisturiser. When Juno holds his hand out for it, Nureyev bats him away.

“I’ll do it,” he says, and shifts to kneel between Juno’s legs.

The warmth in Juno’s face flares again as Nureyev neatly lifts the skirt of his dress and folds it up to the top of his thighs. He’s wearing pink panty briefs today, now on display as Nureyev smooths his hands down Juno’s thighs. Juno bites his lower lip and tries not to get turned on as Nureyev’s fingers dip beneath the elastic of one of his stockings.

“Okay if I take these off?”

“Yeahofcourse.” The words tumble from Juno in a messy rush and he fights the urge to facepalm. Nureyev chuckles, low and warm, before he begins to peel Juno’s stocking off. He folds it neatly and sets it aside, taking a moment to stroke his hands along Juno’s now bare calf, before he starts on the second stocking. Pressing a kiss to Juno’s knee as the material slides past it.

Nureyev’s hands trace up the outside of Juno’s legs once they’re both bare, leaving goosebumps in their wake. When he reaches Juno’s knees, his fingers trail across to the inside of Juno’s legs, easing them further apart so he has more room to examine his thighs.

“Is it painful?”

“I- Uh- I’ve had worse.”

Nureyev gives him a disapproving look, and Juno’s head dips in automatic apology.

“That’s not what I asked, Juno.”

“I mean, it stings a bit, but I can manage.”

Nureyev sighs, ducking down to dot three kisses up Juno’s thigh before he unscrews the lid of the jar. Dipping his middle and index finger into the white cream inside, Nureyev collects a small amount on his fingertips. He presses them to the tender area of Juno’s inner thigh and starts rubbing small, gentle circles; working the moisturiser into his skin. The first touch is cool against Juno’s hot skin, soothing, and he lets out a low sigh of relief at the touch.

“Better?”

“Ah, yeah. Feels nice.”

“Good.”

Nureyev dips his fingers again and does the same on the other thigh. Juno’s eyes close at the touch and he leans his head back. Relaxed as Nureyev massages his thighs, fingers light but firm, and then-

Juno starts as Nureyev’s thumb trails along the front of his panties, brushing over his stirring cock. He’s frowning, but his dark eyes are amused.

“Why, Juno. Here I am, on my knees, taking care of your aching wounds, and you- you’re getting hard!”

“Uh, yeah, well- that’s kind of due to the first half of that sentence.”

“Me? On my knees?” Nureyev blinks up at him innocently, even as he drags his thumb along the shape of Juno’s cock again. Juno bites his lip. “You haven’t even thanked me yet.”

“Thank you,” Juno says, eye hooded as he watches Nureyev. He hasn’t realised how his hands are gripping the sheets already. Trying not to press his hips up into Nureyev’s touch. He’s not _desperate_. He shouldn’t be getting so worked up over one little touch.

Then again, Nureyev has always been able to get him worked up with just a suggestion.

Nureyev stands, and Juno tries not to look disappointed.

“You don’t sound very genuine,” he says. “Perhaps you should show me.”

Juno’s hands immediately go to Nureyev’s hips, tugging him forward between his legs. He presses his face to Nureyev’s stomach, inhaling that distinctive smell of him that makes Juno’s mouth water. Juno nuzzles against his skin, before trailing hot, open mouthed kisses across his stomach to his hip bone. He catches the skin above the dip of Nureyev’s hip between his teeth, and sucks a dark, claiming bruise. Above him Nureyev hisses, fingers carding through Juno’s hair before they tighten and _pull_.

“Ah.” Juno jerks back with the pull of Nureyev’s hand, his fingers grasping tight enough in Juno’s curls he can scarcely move without feeling the tug of his scalp.

“You’re supposed to be showing me your gratitude, Juno.”

“I am.”

“Juno.” Another sharp tug has Juno gasping as he scrambles sideways to keep his head near Nureyev’s hand. “You’re not playing very nice.”

“Never heard you complaining before,” Juno says. He’s panting lightly, and his cock is now evidently interested, bulging against the silk of his panties.

“You’re being such a brat today,” Nureyev says, clicking his tongue against his teeth in a tut of disappointment. “Perhaps I need to teach you some manners.”

“Wha-“

Nureyev’s form is slighter than Juno’s, but deceptively strong. It takes him barely a second to drag Juno to his feet, with the hand in his hair and another on Juno’s arm. Before Juno can even process what’s happening, Nureyev has tilted his hips, used his foot to trip Juno off balance, and sat in time to pull Juno across his lap. Juno’s heart beats hard, face flushed as he squirms in Nureyev’s grasp.

“What the hell, Nureyev?”

Nureyev ignores him, folding the skirt of his dress up his back.

“What are you-“ Juno’s words cut off in a gasp as Nureyev brings his palm down quick against his ass. “Oh, you’re not serious.”

“But I am, my dear. If you’re going to act like a brat, then I’m going to treat you like one.” Nureyev catches Juno’s arm and bends it up his back when he starts to struggle, the sharp pain encouraging him to stay in place.

“How have I- ahh!” Juno starts as Nureyev lands another slap on the other side of his ass. Nureyev’s hand stays in place this time, massaging him through the silk of his panties.

“The more mouthy you are, the more spanks you’ll get,” Nureyev says. He traces along Juno’s crack through his underwear before he draws back and delivers another slap.

Juno growls, free hand curling into a fist against the floor. He feels ridiculous, spread over Nureyev’s lap with his skirt up. Utterly ridiculous; and horrendously, completely turned on. His cock throbbing where it’s pressed against Nureyev’s thigh.

“It seems our unruly detective is still complaining,” Nureyev says, and Juno growls again, only for a flurry of slaps to come faster and harder than before. “I can do this for as long as I need to, Juno.”

“Not a detective any more,” Juno says, and Nureyev slaps him again for good measure. He grumbles a bit before falling quiet.

Nureyev rubs soothing circles over his ass. His skin so hot beneath Nureyev’s fingers. His cock aching, trapped against Nureyev’s thigh. He feels dizzy, stomach twisting, nervous horny in a way he long thought he was too old to feel any more. But then, Peter Nureyev has always been a man who makes him feel… a lot.

“That’s better, Juno. If you’re going to be good for me, we’ll just do a few more, and then I’ll let you up. Are you going to be good?”

“Screw you.”

“I was afraid you’d say that. I’m going to let go of your arm now. _Don’t_ move.” Nureyev’s thin fingers leave his wrist and Juno’s first instinct is to rebel. To push himself up and fight back, but then… then this might end, and if he’s honest, he wants to see where it goes next.

“Do you remember your safe word?” Nureyev asks, voice softer now, the dominant streak out of his tone. Juno’s shoulders relax. It is just a game. He had thought, but the confirmation settles him all the same.

“Yes.”

“Tell me.”

“I know it.”

“Juno, please.”

“Andromeda,” he says with a sigh. As if he’ll ever forget that, and definitely not something he’d say during sex normally.

“And you’ll use that if things get too much or you need a break?”

“Yeah.”

“You will _actually_ use that, and not just try and tough it out?”

“I- yes. If I really need it, I’ll use my word.”

“Good.” While he’s been talking, Nureyev has been shifting beneath Juno, thighs pressing against his stomach. It’s only as Juno hears his belt slide from the loops that he understands what Nureyev was doing. His cock throbs suddenly at the realisation. “I’m going to use my belt, now. Are you going to be okay with that?”

“God, yes,” Juno says, and then feels hot all over at the desperation in his own tone.

Nureyev chuckles approvingly. His fingers skim the hot flesh of Juno’s ass again, tracing teasingly light patterns across it, almost ticklish. Juno squirms a little against him.

“Good. Keep being good for me, Juno, and things will get even better.”

Then he takes his hand away, and the next thing to touch Juno is the sharp impact of the belt. The first strike isn’t particularly hard. A testing strike, Juno thinks. See how he takes it. He stays quietly and obediently draped over Nureyev’s lap. He can take a lot more than that.

“Good,” Nureyev says, and his free hand comes to Juno’s hair. Nails scratch lightly against his scalp and Juno makes a soft sound, arching into the pleasant sensation. Quickly contrasted by a much fiercer strike with the belt.

This one draws a yelp from Juno. His head starts to drop forward, but Nureyev’s fingers tighten in his curls. Yanking his head up as he lands another hot strike against Juno. This one lands on the tender curve where Juno’s ass joins thigh. His back arches with the jolt of that hit, but Nureyev’s fingers come firm and insistent on his low back to guide him down against his lap again.

“Don’t want to strain yourself,” Nureyev says. “Good boy.”

Every shift and movement against Nureyev gives his cock the most agonising friction. Teasing but not enough to take the edge off. Just making him feel harder, trembling, the silk of his panties damp with precum. He whimpers through the next two hits, biting his lower lip hard to try and muffle the sounds.

“See, you’re being so good for me now, Juno. All it took was a firm hand. Are you going to behave now?”

“Yes- Maybe- if you want me to. God, Nureyev-“ Juno breaks off when Nureyev hits him again, the hardest so far, crying out as his nails claw the floor. Nureyev let’s his hair go and he slumps over him, breathing hard.

“I asked you a yes or no question, Juno.”

“Yes. Yes, I’ll be good.”

“Better.”

Nureyev sets the belt aside, and his hands are gentle as they guide Juno up until he’s kneeling by Nureyev’s side. He rests his head on Nureyev’s thigh and nuzzles into his stomach, silently apologetic, purposefully trying to please him, to prove he’s worthy of his touch. Nureyev cards his fingers through Juno’s hair and rubs light circles on his scalp.

“Are you alright, Juno?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to keep going?”

“Yes. Please. Want to feel you. Taste you.” Juno presses his face down, mouthing hungrily at the front of Nureyev’s trousers. Sucking over the bulge of his cock. Nureyev laughs.

“Alright, my sweet, eager Juno. At least let me undress first. But I am not quite done with you yet. Come.” He pats his lap, and Juno tilts his head, confused.

“Wha-“

“Straddle me,” Nureyev clarifies. “Take off your underwear first. I’m going to put some cream on your bottom to soothe it.”

Juno stands and grabs the hem of his dress.

“I didn’t say for you to take that off,” Nureyev says , shifting back on the bed a little so Juno has more room to kneel on either side of his thighs.

Juno’s eyebrow raises, curious, but he does as he’s told. Pushes his panties down to his knees and lets them fall before stepping out of them. He feels strangely more bare with the front of his dress ghosting against his cock than if he were completely naked. Perhaps that was Nureyev’s intention.

“Good,” Nureyev says, when Juno lightly holds his shoulders and positions his knees on either side of Nureyev’s thighs. “Aren’t you just a picture?”

Nureyev’s palms slide up along Juno’s thighs, disappearing under the skirt of his dress. His thumbs trail teasingly close to Juno’s cock, enough to have his stomach tensing with anticipation, before his hands shift up to his hips, and then around to squeeze his ass. Juno hisses and presses his forehead to Nureyev’s temple.

“Tender?”

“Stings,” Juno says. Pressed so close to Nureyev he’s all that he can smell. That intoxicating scent that leaves him dizzy. He nuzzles into Nureyev’s neck, nose against the pulse point where he rubs his cologne, and breathes deep. Nureyev presses a kiss to his ear, one hand cupping Juno’s ass to hold him steady as the other hand reaches for the moisturiser. The first touch is a shock of cold that has Juno shifting away and pressing into Nureyev.

“Shh shh, you’re okay,” Nureyev says, gently smoothing the cream across his skin. It’s instantly cooling, and Juno sighs, kissing up Nureyev’s neck and appreciatively mouthing at his ear. Nureyev laughs, his other hand coming to Juno’s shoulder to guide him back a bit. Juno blinks at him, eye lidded and pupil blown.

Juno is wearing an off the shoulders sundress. Black with bright sunflowers printed across it. Nureyev’s fingers trail down to the circle sleeve on his bicep and start to pull it down, taking the chest of the dress with it. When that sleeve is at the bend of Juno’s elbow, he uses his teeth to pull the other sleeve to the same place. Juno swallows thickly as he watches Nureyev slowly baring his chest.

“Beautiful,” Nureyev murmurs, pressing a kiss over Juno’s heart, then tracing his tongue along the edge of a scar running beneath Juno’s collarbone. As he does so, both his hands have now returned to working the cream into Juno’s ass. Each squeeze and press a fresh sting of sensation.

Nureyev presses his fingers in particularly hard at the exact moment he takes Juno’s left nipple into his mouth. Nails digging in to Juno’s tender skin as Nureyev’s tongue laps and circles around his nipple. Juno’s head falls back with a moan, caught between pleasure and pain. The ache just seems to amplify the heat of Nureyev’s mouth, and both touches spark along his nerves right to his throbbing cock. He can’t remember the last time he was this hard without even being directly touched. His head is light and dizzy as Nureyev’s teeth catch and tug his nipple, Juno’s chest arching into his mouth with a ragged moan.

“So beautiful. And the sounds you make, oh Juno, just gorgeous. If I could bottle those sounds they’d make a fortune. Half the galaxy would be wet and ready at the sound of your wanton moans.”

“Nureyev.” Juno already sounds wrecked and fucked out, hands clutching Nureyev’s shoulders like a life line. There’s sweat on his skin despite the fact he’s barely moved, heat blistering from the core of him.

“Yes, darling?”

“I want to touch you.”

“Why, you are touching me, Juno.”

“No. I mean- I wanna-“

“If you can’t be clear with me, I won’t know.”

“I- want to touch your cock,” Juno says. His cheeks burn like a virgin. As if he hasn’t touched Nureyev a dozen times before. As if he hasn’t used mouth and hands on him, hasn’t spread his legs for him, hasn’t scratched his back, and cried his name, and held him tight as they came apart. It doesn’t matter. The power dynamic Nureyev has created makes him feel small and awkward, in the most fumbling, delicious way. “Want to taste it. Wanna suck you off. Make you feel good. Wanna make you feel so, so good, Nureyev.”

“And you will, when I decide it’s time.”

Juno whines in complaint, but it quickly shifts to a whimper as Nureyev shifts focus to his other nipple. He’s sucking it in a way that makes Juno feel if he kept at it long enough he might be able to come just from this, when Nureyev’s fingers strokes against his hole. It’s just a brush, a tease of what’s to come, but the muscles of Juno’s ass clench expectantly. Nureyev laughs, gives him a light spank that ignites fresh pain on his tender skin.

“So eager,” he says, words muffled against Juno’s skin as he trails kisses over his chest. Sucks a hickey into his right pec, and another at the base of his neck. Juno whines, his hips gently rocking against Nureyev of their own accord, each shift of his skirt against his cock a torturous tease.

Nureyev continues to dot bruises over Juno’s chest, each bite and suck making Juno moan and arch against him. His cock is throbbing so insistently. Hands in Nureyev’s hair, just holding, not wanting to tug and direct in case Nureyev draws away and punishes him again. He’s not sure he could last another round of spanking.

When Nureyev’s head finally tilts up, Juno realises it’s the first time he’s kissed him tonight. He kisses back hungrily, trying to pour all of his desire into it. His hands paw at Nureyev’s face. He grinds his cock against Nureyev’s stomach. He licks into Nureyev’s mouth, sucks his lower lip, draws away with a little nip; all the techniques he knows Nureyev enjoys. Trying so hard to entice him. To make him feel even half as lust crazed as Juno feels right now.

Nureyev looks remarkably unphased despite his efforts. Except for his eyes. Dark already, the pupils are blown out now. Nureyev might be able to control his body language, but he can’t control the dilation of his eyes. Juno feels smugly satisfied when he notices that. Kissing and licking at the column of Nureyev’s throat when he tilts his head away to remove his glasses.

“So frantic tonight. Really, Juno. You’re like a bitch in heat. You’ve been grinding against me non stop. Can’t you just enjoy our little warm up first, pet?”

“Can’t help it. You get me worked up,” Juno says.

“Oh, so this is _my_ fault?”

“Yes.”

Nureyev frowns, and Juno’s stomach drops. Wrong answer? Shit. Nureyev’s fingers come up to grip his jaw. He trails his thumb along Juno’s lower lip, and Juno licks at it apologetically, sucks Nureyev’s thumb into his mouth and hollows his cheeks around it as he flashes his one bright puppy eye gaze on him.

“See, if I recall, I was just trying to help you out. Trying to soothe your aching thighs that you complained about. There I was, applying cream to your poor, chafed skin, when your cock started to stir without any prompting from me. So I don’t think it is my fault, Juno. I think you’re just a little slut who gets hard for anyone willing to stick a hand up his skirt.”

Juno swallows, his throat moving beneath Nureyev’s palm. There’s no pressure on his windpipe, just skin close to his, but he feels as if Nureyev takes his breath anyway.

“Am I wrong, detective?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, am I, now? Care to correct me, then?”

“Not- not just for anyone. Just- for you. Always for you. Don’t even have to put your hand up my skirt. Sometimes you just look at me a certain way and it drives me crazy. Sometimes just catching a whiff of your scent, makes my stomach tingle.”

Nureyev’s expression softens, just briefly, genuine emotion flashing through his dom persona. His hand moves to cup Juno’s cheek, bringing him in for a soft kiss, surprisingly chaste compared to their previous kisses.

“Just my little slut, then.”

“Yes,” Juno breathes.

“Still, I don’t think I can be held accountable for your lack of control.”

“I-“ Juno pauses. Cautious as he considers the best way to proceed. His arousal is really starting to ache a little now, and he’d like for Nureyev to touch him - properly touch him - as soon as possible. “No. I’m sorry.”

“And how are you going to make it up to me?”

Juno meets Nureyev’s gaze. Those dark eyes boring into his own. Slowly, he trails his hand down Nureyev’s chest, testing the waters to see if he’s allowed to touch now. Nureyev watches him steadily, only taking a slightly sharper inhale when Juno’s fingers trace the outline of his cock through his trousers.

“Fuck my face,” he says, suddenly, already salivating at the thought.

“You’re… sure?” One of Nureyev’s thin brows raises in an arch, clearly wondering if he’s pushed Juno too far.

“I am. I want to. I want- I want you to.”

“You’ll tap out of it gets too much?”

Juno rolls his one eye.

“Yes. Can I please suck your cock already?”

Nureyev rumbles with laughter at that, pressing his forehead to Juno’s shoulder. As his laugh subsides, he presses a few last giggly kisses to Juno’s skin.

“Since you asked so nicely.”

“ _Finally_.” Juno drops from Nureyev’s lap to the floor with a _bump_ , fingers clumsily fumbling with Nureyev’s trousers button, over eager. Nureyev’s gentle fingers settle over his, help him guide the button from its hole.

“Thanks,” Juno mumbles, pressing a kiss to Nureyev’s wrist before he pulls his underwear and trousers down and off together. Nureyev arches his hips to help, then sheds his own shirt when he’s sat up again.

Juno looks over his naked form hungrily. All lean and sharp lines, fading bruises from Juno’s mouth, and old scars from before Juno’s time. He’s gorgeous. Makes Juno’s chest tighten and his breath catch every time. And this man; this spectacular, gorgeous man, wants _him_ , Juno Steel, even after everything he’s done. Juno’s chest feels tight again as he shuffles forward on his knees. Eager to prove himself. Eager to show Nureyev that he’s worth the second chance. His hands glide up along Nureyev’s thighs, feeling the light, ticklish hair there. Enjoying the contrast in their skin tones. Nureyev’s hand comes back to pet at his scalp as Juno presses a few kisses to the taut skin of his stomach. He glances up, one bright blue eye framed by dark lashes, meeting Nureyev’s gaze as he drags his tongue up along the underside of his cock. Nureyev’s grip tightens slightly on his hair and Juno slackens his jaw, starts to take Nureyev into his mouth.

“You look so pretty, Juno. Half out of your dress. Lips damp and kiss swollen around my cock. Beautiful. And your mouth feels so good, darling.”

Juno hums in response to the praise, tongue circling the head of Nureyev’s cock even as he sucks on it. Nureyev moans; a quiet, contained sound, but Juno feels accomplished all the same. He holds the base of Nureyev’s cock as he guides it further into his mouth, relaxing his throat to take it deeper. Once he does, his hands go to hold Nureyev’s slim hips as he starts to bob his head up and down his length. Nureyev continues to encourage him with soft words, fingers in his hair or stroking his cheeks. Juno feels warm beneath his touches and praise, sucking him more hungrily, working his jaw and tongue until they start to cramp.

“Do you still want me to fuck your mouth?” Nureyev asks. His voice is soft, leaving room for Juno to say no.

Juno nods enthusiastically around him.

Nureyev’s hand tightens in his hair, and his hips start to roll up against Juno. Holding his head in place as he fucks into his mouth. Juno focuses on keeping his lips over his teeth and his throat relaxed. Only gagging on one particularly deep thrust of Nureyev’s hips. Nureyev pauses, starts to withdraw as Juno coughs around him, but Juno gets a breath in through his nose and tightens his hands on Nureyev’s hips to keep him in his mouth.

“Juno, if you need a break-“

“Uh-uh,” Juno hums around him. Saliva dripping from the corner of his mouth. Nureyev wipes it clean with his thumb, then ruffles Juno’s hair.

“As long as you’re sure.”

Juno moans approvingly and starts shifting his head in Nureyev’s hold again, until Nureyev resumes fucking his face. Juno’s mouth makes filthy, slick noises as Nureyev thrusts into it. Tears prick at the corners of his eye. His dick is heavy and throbbing between his legs, and he wants so, so bad to touch it, but he knows it will be better if he waits. If Nureyev touches it. He focuses on the steady pattern of his breath. Of the scent of Nureyev filling his nose. Of the weight of Nureyev’s cock on his tongue. Let’s everything else fall away.

He barely notices when Nureyev slows, his head still absently going with the movement. His jaw is aching and stiff but it doesn’t matter. He’ll keep his mouth open as long as Nureyev needs him to. Except Nureyev is shifting back now. Thumb stroking along Juno’s jaw. His other thumb coming up to wipe away the tears from his eye.

“Wha-?” Juno blinks up blearily, panting as he catches his breath again. He has just a moment before Nureyev’s lips are on his. Nureyev’s hands under his arms guiding him up onto the bed.

“So good for me, my dear detective. You and that devilish mouth of yours. Quick witted, charming, and so sweet wrapped around me. But I’m not ready to come apart just yet, Juno. I want to come inside you.”

“I’m not a detective any more,” Juno says. Nureyev laughs and kisses his jaw.

“Hardly the focus right now, but you’ll always be _my_ detective. Now, take this off.” He gives a little tug at Juno’s dress and Juno peels it off over his head and flings it off the bed. Nureyev tsks. “Messy.”

Then his hand is finally, _finally_ around Juno’s cock, and he moans helplessly, hands gripping at Nureyev’s biceps.

“Wow, you are wound up, aren’t you?” Nureyev gives him a few snow strokes. He trails his thumb over Juno’s tip, gathering precum before he raises it to his mouth and sucks it clean. Juno watches him, slack jawed. “Hand me the lubricant.”

Juno heaves himself further up the bed and stretches across to Nureyev’s bedside drawer, fumbling briefly before he grabs their bottle of lube and hands it to Nureyev.

“Good boy. Now, shift down the bed for me. Yes, like that. Prop your knees up. You can be patient for a little bit longer, can’t you?”

“I think. Feeling pretty close already, if I’m being honest.”

“And I’ve barely touched you. Cute.” Nureyev slicks up his fingers as Juno watches him through the V of his spread legs, absently chewing his lower lip in anticipation. “You’re not too sore, are you?”

“No, I’m fine. Barely even noticed it for a while.”

“Juno.”

“Honestly. Been otherwise distracted, Nureyev.”

“Okay.” Nureyev lowers his hand between Juno’s leg, slick finger teasing along his crack before he pushes in in one fluid movement. Juno shifts his hips. The first one always takes him a moment to get used to. Nureyev watches for him to settle before he presses that long, thin fingers of his in as far as it will go, then curls it up against Juno’s prostate.

Juno’s reaction is instantaneous. The muscles of his abs tense as his head falls back against the pillow. His feet press against the bed. His fingers curl in the sheets, knuckles lightening from the tightness of his grip.

“Fuck,” he says, ragged with the intensity.

“Ah, seems like that’s my mark,” Nureyev says, and continues to massage against it, drawing a string of curses and whines from Juno. “Language, Juno.”

“Fuck you,” Juno says, and Nureyev starts to draw his finger out and away. “Wait, no, I’m sorry.”

“I’m just adding a second finger,” Nureyev says, looking far too smug and amused. How can he look so composed even now? His cock is slick and hard between his thighs, coated in Juno’s saliva, and yet he’s still smirking mirthfully, not a hair out of place. Juno feels like he’s coming apart at the seams. A feeling that is only heightened when Nureyev presses two fingers in.

“Fuck,” Juno says.

“Mm, soon enough, darling.”

“Nureyev.”

“Yes Juno?”

“Nothing- I mean- God- I was just saying your name.” Juno reaches down to where Nureyev’s other hand is resting on his thigh, sliding their fingers together. Nureyev smiles softly at that, squeezing Juno’s hand before he lifts their joined hands to press a kiss to the back of Juno’s.

“You’re taking my fingers so well, my dear. So handsome like this. My beautiful, perfect Juno.”

Juno tilts his head to the side, skin hot, pressing his face against the pillow in embarrassment.

“I’m not any of those things.”

“You’re calling me a liar?”

“I’m- it’s not- but I’m not-“

“I think you are. Just because you’re not able to appreciate yourself, doesn’t mean you can stop me from appreciating you. You are so very handsome, my sweet Juno. So strong, smart, sassy- and let’s not forget sexy.”

Juno groans and tries to burrow his face further into the pillow, but Nureyev’s hand comes to his cheek, palm cool against his flushed skin. He tilts Juno’s face up towards him. Juno keeps his one eye facing away.

“Juno, look at me.”

Juno makes a sound of protest. Nureyev presses both his fingers against Juno’s prostate. He starts with a moan.

“ _Look at me._ ”

Juno does; gazing wide eyed up at Nureyev.

“Juno, regardless of how you feel about yourself, you must know I mean every word I say. You have consumed me since our first meeting. I have never met anyone quite like you, and I’m confident I never will. You are so determined, intelligent, and drop dead gorgeous. No, don’t look away. I mean it, Juno. At least believe that if you don’t believe the words themselves.”

Juno feels like he’s burning up from the inside. No longer just the heat of arousal, but a swelling, blistering feeling surging through him. He doesn’t deserve Nureyev’s words, but they still make his heart full, make him feel light and giddy. Even if he can’t believe those things about himself, he does believe Nureyev is genuine, believes in the affection pouring out of him. Juno surges up, catching the back of Nureyev’s neck to drag him into a deep kiss. Moaning against his mouth, desperate to translate the emotion inside himself even he doesn’t fully understand.

Nureyev kisses back like he’s trying to consume him. Like Juno is everything he’s ever been searching for, and if he just presses close enough, just kisses him deeply enough, everything will be okay. Juno is so focused on the kiss he almost forgets about Nureyev’s fingers inside him, until Nureyev twists his wrist and presses his fingers deep again. Juno moans open mouthed against him, and Nureyev chuckles, taking it as invitation to bite his lower lip.

“Nureyev. Please. I can take it now.”

“I’m not finished prepping you.”

“It’s not the first time this week.” Juno rolls his hips down against Nureyev, lightly fucking himself against his fingers. “I’ll be okay.”

“Juno… No. You’re only on two fingers. I’m not going to fuck you until I think you’re ready.”

“Ugh, c’mon.” Juno growls, wiggling his hips more. “I’ll be fine.”

“You may be careless with yourself, my dear detective, but I will not be. This is the last I’ll hear of this. You will behave and take what I give you, or you can get on your knees and finish me that way. Greedy little sluts who can’t be patient don’t get fucked.”

Juno’s mouth opens to protest, but Nureyev gives him a sharp look, those dark eyes narrowed, and he shuts his mouth again.

“Good boy,” Nureyev says, and presses a kiss to the corner of Juno’s pouting mouth. Juno gazes sullenly up at him, but that expression dissolves into a moan when Nureyev presses a third finger in. Hips shifting to get used to the stretch. “See. You’re tight even with that finger. It’ll feel so much better if you let me prep you properly.”

“Yeah, alright.” Juno’s panting. Chest rising and falling beneath Nureyev. A light sheen of sweat across his dark skin. Nureyev presses open mouthed kisses along his shoulder as he works his fingers in and out, scissoring them apart as much as he can. One of Juno’s hands scratches at Nureyev’s shoulder, the other fisting in the sheets.

“Almost there, darling. Last one. Maybe someday I’ll get you to take my fist, hm?” Nureyev smiles up at him, Juno slack jawed and glassy eyed. Moaning helplessly at the thought. “But not tonight. No, you’ve been patient enough for me tonight. Relax for me, love.”

Nureyev adds more lube to his fingers. His other palm smooths over Juno’s stomach, rubbing soothing circles as he eases four of his fingers in. Juno breathes through it, lashes fluttering, feeling the stretch and slight burn, feeling so full of Nureyev.

_But it’s not enough. I want more. Want him inside me, above me, all around me. Want to be all encompassed. God, Steel, you’re a wreck. Yeah I am but especially for this man. Fuck that’s- Nureyev. God._

“Perfect. Look at you taking my fingers so well.” Nureyev nuzzles against Juno’s raised knee, catching the soft skin of his inner thigh between his teeth and giving a little tug. Juno gasps. Nureyev smirks and sucks a hard bruise further up his thigh. The ache of Juno’s cock has dulled to a background throb, but seeing Nureyev shifting closer to it gives a fresh pang of longing.

“Nureyev, please.”

“Hm.” Nureyev studies him with those dark eyes, lazily fucking his fingers in and out of Juno. He still looks so composed as he takes in the mess of Juno. “Yes. I think you’re ready for me now.”

“Oh thank fuck.” Juno drags Nureyev down when he draws his fingers out, licking into his mouth, whining needily. Nureyev indulges him as he reaches for a condom, only pulling away to roll it on and lube himself up. He catches one of Juno’s legs and hooks it over his hip.

“Ready?”

“Yes, fuck, yes, so ready.”

Nureyev laughs, rubbing his hand over Juno’s ass before he guides himself in. Pressing his mouth to Juno’s to stifle his loud moans. Both of them panting into each other’s mouths as Nureyev slowly sinks into him.

“Oh, _Juno_. You feel so good. So tight and hot and perfect for me.”

“Nngh.”

“And so eloquent.”

“Shut up and fuck me already.”

“Ah, ah.” Nureyev’s hand comes to Juno’s neck, tilting his head back, light pressure at the sides of his throat. Juno inhales raggedly, barely getting any air in. “You’re not in charge here, Juno. Remember that.”

Juno whimpers, helplessly aroused, his cock caught between his and Nureyev’s stomach. Nureyev leans down to kiss him sweetly, seeming to know exactly when Juno’s lungs are burning painfully, for that’s when he shifts his hand away. Juno gasps in air, every sensation seeming sharper, heightened. Which is exactly when Nureyev shifts his hips back and thrusts hard into him.

Juno’s moaning is ragged and desperate. His vision sparks out briefly, white dots blotting out the world from the sheer intensity of sensation. His head dizzy and spinning. Every nerve ending feels on fire. The bed creaks beneath them as Nureyev picks up pace, hips slapping against Juno’s ass as he fucks into him. Juno curls his leg around Nureyev’s lower back, moving with him.

“Please, Nureyev, god, so close.”

“Hm.” Nureyev reaches between them and grips Juno’s cock, stroking it fast and firm in time with his strokes. Juno whimpers and whines, almost over sensitive now, riding the thin line between pain and pleasure. Pressure building in his stomach. Leg tightening around Nureyev. Thighs tensing. Close, so close, almost there-

Nureyev squeezes the base of his cock hard, and the precipice he was approaching collapses.

“Hey!” Juno’s scrunched tight eye opens and gazes, glassy and betrayed, up at Nureyev. The corner is damp. Nureyev presses a kiss to the wet tear track.

“You are not to come until I say so.”

“Oh, come on. I can’t-“

Nureyev squeezes the base of his cock again and Juno hisses.

“You can and you _will_. I’ve had to wait what feels like a lifetime for you to come back to me, so you can wait for your orgasm.” There’s a sharpness to Nureyev’s voice that almost, almost disguises the slight ache under his words.

Juno blinks up at him, stunned by the sudden emotion. Nureyev’s expression softens, as if concerned he’s taken it too far, and he strokes Juno’s cheek lightly.

“Are you still alright, Juno?”

“I- yes. I’ve got my word if I need it. I- I won’t come until you say.”

The slight tenseness melts from Nureyev’s shoulders, and he kisses Juno with a tenderness that is at odds with the grinding of his hips. Juno strokes his cheek, tracing the shapes of his face, softness and care to show he is really alright.

“Good,” Nureyev whispers against Juno’s lips, their foreheads still pressed together. “Because when I do let you come I want it to be so hard that nothing else exists to you besides my cock and your pleasure.”

Juno makes a soft, desperate sound. Nureyev presses another kiss to his lips before he shifts up to start moving his hips again. Juno bites his lower lip hard, trying not to focus on his cock, on the pleasure consuming him. He watches Nureyev through a heavily lidded eye. So beautiful, leaning over him like this. Finally lost his composure. Hair ruffled from where Juno’s hands have run through it. Skin sweaty and flushed down his chest from the effort. Juno feels pressure in his chest from the fierceness of affection he has for this man.

Then Nureyev thrusts in at just the right angle, and Juno isn’t really aware of anything beyond physical sensation. He puts a wrist in his mouth, trying his best to stifle sounds he knows are far too loud. Nureyev looks amused even as he picks up speed, his jaw tight and tense with the effort.

“Alright, Juno. You can come now, but I want you to touch yourself for me.”

Juno doesn’t even have the sense of mind to feel ashamed at how quickly his hand goes to his cock. He jerks himself off with absolute desperation, aching with over stimulation, but so needy for release. He whimpers and squirms, caught between his fist and Nureyev’s still shifting hips. As his thighs start to tense again, Nureyev bats his hand away. There’s a second of fear he’s going to make him wait again, but instead he takes over stroking him as Juno falls apart with a ragged cry torn from his throat.

Nureyev gets his wish. Juno comes so hard that he’s aware of nothing else. It seems to last and last, waves of electric pleasure surging through his body. Nureyev hits his prostate a few times as he’s contracting around him and that just makes his orgasm more intense. Every muscle in his body pulling taut and tense before they release.

He feels absolutely exhausted by the time it’s over. Body limp and tingling. Barely aware of Nureyev’s shaky moan above him as he finishes his last few fast, jerky thrusts inside of Juno. Arms trembling holding himself over Juno.

“C’mere.” Juno wraps his arms around Nureyev’s waist and tugs him down against his chest. His own arms feel weak and jelly like, but he holds him there, stroking his hair as Nureyev comes down from the aftershocks.

“I’m supposed to be giving you aftercare,” Nureyev mumbles against Juno’s shoulder. Juno huffs a laugh; spent, sleepy, and extremely affectionate.

“I’m okay.”

Nureyev does shift after a moment. Easing out of Juno and getting up to dispose of the condom. He pulls on his robe and pops briefly to the bathroom, bringing back a wet cloth which he gently rubs Juno’s stomach clean with.

“Here.” Nureyev takes a glass of water from the bedside table. Cupping the back of Juno’s head to help him sit up. “Drink.”

Junk doesn’t realise how thirsty he is until the first drop hits his tongue. He downs half the glass, smiling warmly at Nureyev when he hands it back.

“Thanks.”

Nureyev hangs his robe up and climbs into bed beside Juno. He shifts the blanket over them and draws Juno to his chest, gently petting his hair. Juno drapes an arm across Nureyev’s waist and nuzzles into the side of his neck, breathing him in, sighing happily.

“Are you okay, Juno?”

“I’m great. Perfect. Never better.”

“And that, that was okay?”

“Are you kidding? That was amazing. Haven’t come that hard- maybe ever.”

Nureyev laughs, fingers soft as they stroke Juno’s cheek, tilting his head up for a chaste kiss.

“Nothing was too much for you?”

“No. It was- it was good, Nureyev. It felt good. I feel good.”

“Good. That’s what I wanted. To make you feel good. I-“ Nureyev pauses, and Juno nuzzles against his shoulder as he looks up at him, his one eye soft but curious. “I love you, Juno.”

The hazy calm evaporates from Juno immediately. His stomach tight and queasy. His head spinning. That’s the first time Nureyev has said that since they’ve been reacquainted, the only time since- Since that night.

“I love you, too,” Juno says. His voice is soft, low and warm, but there’s no hesitation in it. He loves Peter Nureyev. He never stopped. The reason he walked away in the first place was because he loved him so much he couldn’t deal with the happiness he brought. Happiness Juno didn’t feel like he deserved. Still doesn’t, but he’s trying to accept it anyway, because hey, it’s not just about Nureyev making him happy. He makes Nureyev happy, and that he can see the worth in, even if he can’t with his own happiness.

Nureyev’s expression softens into a smile. As if he’d been concerned Juno would react badly. A wild thought to Juno, who is sure it’s evident to anyone who sees them that he’s completely enamoured with this man. Rita’s definitely made enough teasing remarks about it, and Vespa plenty of not so teasing ones.

“Good,” Nureyev says, trying to sound casual, but unable to hide his bright smile. He presses his mouth to Juno’s forehead to disguise it. “Well. I assume you’re quite exhausted after all that. You should probably get some rest, my dear.”

“Yeah-“ Juno cuts off in a yawn, muffling it against Nureyev’s shoulder. Nureyev hums, amused, and clicks off the lamp. “Good night, Nureyev.”

“Good night, my sweet, darling Juno.”  
  



End file.
